Labor Pains
by francaiskiss
Summary: Francis is needed in France for an important international affair. He leaves behind a very pissed and very pregnant Canadian in the care of an American and a secretly expecting Englishman.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, hope everything is going okay in your lives. Sorry for my absence on this site, it is inexcusable, especially when so many of you guys are awesome enough to leave a review or favorite/watch the story or me! And thanks to those who just read it! I appreciate it all, so much! I'm going to _try_ to keep the updates a little bit more constant. There is a reason 'try' is italicized. And in getting myself back into the game, I am going through and editing the first three chapters of my story. Nothing major, just some spelling and grammar things to correct and some minor editing. Not a big deal at all. Translations and notes on this chapter are at the bottom of the page, under the second author's note. Hope you guys like!

Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, or form own the Hetalia series.

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**Montreal, Québec, Canada**

**3:00 PM EST**

"Vous fils de pute égoïste!"

Francis ducked his head as a china plate crashed into the wall behind him.

"Mathieu! Chérie, please calm down!"

The Canadian dropped the crystal wine goblet he held to the floor, where it crashed noisily. Francis flinched, that had been a gift from the Sun King himself…

"I-," the younger man began, "-I am nine months pregnant, Francis. _Nine months_! I could have this baby at any moment and you're standing here, telling me, that you have to go to fucking Paris!"

"Mon ange, its not that I want to leave you and our baby, but I have to go," Francis pleaded with his emotional lover. "Nicolas needs me to-"

"I am your husband, Francis! Not Nicolas Sarkozy!," the Canadian hissed.

Matthew turned away from the Frenchman, searching desperately for something else valuable to smash.

"I'm already terrified of what's going to happen and you _promised _me that you wouldn't leave. _You fucking promised me!_"

With his back still to his husband, Matthew wiped the tears of frustration from his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie while his other hand rested calmly on the bulge of his stomach. Francis heard the younger man sniffle from across the kitchen, and stood up from the table where he had been doing paperwork. He walked cautiously to his lover, not ruling out that the Canadian was possibly clutching some sort of blunt instrument perfect for smashing over the older man's skull.

Taking a risk he embraced Matthew tenderly, bringing him to rest against his own body; hand joining Matthew's. "Mon Mathieu, you must calm down. Please think of the baby."

The Canadian dislodged himself from the embrace and turned to his husband with frantic worried eyes, "What if the baby comes, while your gone? What am I going to do? I've never done this sort of thing before! What if something goes wrong? What if she's sick? What if-"

"Shh, shh, mon ange. Calm yourself, I've taken care of everything. Alfred and Arthur are going to come up and stay with you-"

Matthew made a face.

"They promised they'd behave for your sake. I'm only going to be gone for two days and I'll keep my cell on so if there's absolutely anything you need, you can call me and I'll be on the next flight to Québec. I'm sure our little princess will wait for her papa to return before she decides to come on out, though."

Francis had now dropped to his knees, nuzzling his husband's engorged stomach, lovingly.

Matthew began to blush, but allowed his husband to continue caressing his abdomen. His idle hands fell to the Frenchman's locks, which weren't much different from his own, stroking the curls.

"J'espère que vous avez raison.. ."

Francis stood back up and pecked Canada on the lips. "Mathieu, everything will be fine…don't you trust me?"

Matthew flushed and nodded, "of course, I do!"

Francis smiled genuinely and kissed him passionately enough so that Matthew and his unbalanced hormones were dragging him to their bedroom, moments later.

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**Washington, DC, USA**

**5:30 PM EST**

Alfred Jones watched his spouse move back and forth between their bedroom and its huge walk-in closet, coming out with various articles of clothing, and placing them neatly on the bed. Alfred watched snuggled under the comforter, finding his husband beyond adorable.

"Iggy, Babe, c'mon! We're only gonna be there for two days," he pouted for he was so hoping for some cuddle time before meeting the Barack and Michelle for a congratulatory dinner. So far the First Couple were the only ones who knew about Arthur's pregnancy; both had been sworn to secrecy by Alfred.

Arthur didn't look up from his packing, "Love, we have to be prepared for four days at the least. It's just smart planning."

Alfred groaned dramatically and threw the blankets off himself, cornering the Brit as he tried to leave the closet with one of his own button down shirts.

"Alfred? What are you doing? Our flight is at-mphf!"

The American kissed the smaller man fiercely, pushing him back against the doorframe. After thoroughly ravaging the Brit's mouth, Alfred pulled back, a smug smile on his face. "You're so damn cute, Mommy!"

Arthur swatted half-heartedly at him, "I told you not to call me that, Git!"

Alfred ignored him and kissed the tender part of his neck, causing the other man to shiver. He moved his large hands to rest over Arthur's flat stomach, rubbing teasing circles into the warm flesh. "I can't wait until you start showing…"

Arthur quirked an eyebrow and tried not to enjoy the touches to his stomach. "Why? I'm just going to get all swollen and fat."

"You'll be beautiful."

The Brit laughed and wound their fingers together, "I always knew you'd have some kind of fetish."

Alfred grinned up at the Brit and kissed him softly, "Only if it's you."

They broke apart and Arthur followed the American to the bed.

"I don't want to tell everybody just yet, Love," he said seriously.

Alfred, who had face planted into a pillow, looked up curiously at him. "What? Why not?"

Arthur reached out and took off Texas before it could fall. "Because, this is Matthew's time for attention, not mine. It's only fair, with you overshadowing him in every which way."

"Well…when can we tell them?" Alfred asked, a little frustrated. He looked so young without his glasses.

"Give it a month or two. By then I'll be showing and you can brag all you want."

The American grinned lazily and sat up on his elbows, "What made you decide for us to do this, anyway?"

Arthur folded a pair of Alfred's jeans and placed them neatly in the open suitcase on the floor. He stopped and was quiet for a moment before answering, "Because we love Mattie."

"What about Francis?", Alfred asked.

Arthur closed the suitcase with a sharp click. "We tolerate, Francis. Now get up and put on a decent shirt. You will not embarrass me in front of your boss."

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Not so bad, just some minor tweaking. Now onto the translations and notes. More than likely, the translations are probably off. I tried to use everything but an online translater, because they're usually incorrect. I used some phrase books, and for the more complicated sentences, I got some friends who took French in high school to help me out.

Translations-

"Vous fils de pute égoïste!"- "You selfish son of a bitch!"

"Chérie…"- a form of endearment like 'honey' or 'sweetheart.' there were various spellings, but I couldn't figure out the differences…hopefully this is correct?

"Mon Ange…"- literally "My Angel."

"J'espère que vous avez raison.. ."- hopefully it is, "I hope you're right."

* Louis XVI, also known as the Sun King, is probably one of the most famous French kings ever. He was the king that moved the French court from Paris, which he detested, to Versailles, considered to still be one of the most beautiful and prestigious palaces in the world. He also had a massive ego and is considered the prime example of an absolute ruler.

*Nicolas Sarkozy is the current president of France and, hence, Francis's boss.

Thank you guys, see you in the next chapter :^)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I in NO way own Hetalia or any of the name brands mentioned in this chapter; this is purely fan made.

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**Montreal, Quebec, Canada**

**7:29 AM EST**

Morning came far to quickly for Matthew, who was stirred awake by Francis kissing him goodbye.

"Je pars, mon chérie. Je vais vous rappeler plus tard," he whispered, trying not to break the tranquil morning.

Matthew sat up lazily and returned the kiss, mumbling, "Be careful, Francis."

Francis broke the kiss to lavish attention on all the other lovely features of his husband's face.

"Will you be alright by yourself for a couple hours, mon amour? Alfred and Arthur will be arriving at around ten, and will take a town car here. They couldn't get an earlier flight."

The Canadian smiled slightly, reaching up and smoothing an errant curl on France's head, "I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

Francis moved to kissing his neck lightly, and as much as Canada enjoyed it, he knew if the Frenchman didn't leave now, he'd miss his plane.

Mathew angled Francis's face back to his and kissed him deeply, "Promise you'll be back soon?"

"I promise, Mathieu. I'll be back before you know it, and when I do return, our little princess can welcome me back."

He leant down by the bed and pushed the fabric of Canada's t-shirt up, exposing the round stomach underneath. He nuzzled the warm flesh and pressed a few kisses around Matthew's bellybutton.

"Écoutez votre papa, mon ange. Prendre soin de Maman pendant que je suis allé, oui?", he whispered softly to his daughter in French.

He leaned back up to kiss Matthew goodbye, one last time,"Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime," Canada repeated, letting go of his husband's hand. Francis offered him one final sweet smile, and grabbed his Louis Vuitton Keppall 55. He left, leaving the warm cozy room, a little cooler.

The Canadian swallowed the fear forming in his throat, and settled back into the warm cocoon of blankets, taking advantage of the little rest he'd get before the baby began to move around and demand him to pee or eat. The little thing was going to be like Francis, he could already tell. Not that he minded at all, really...she would be absolutely perfect, and he and Francis would love her...

His thoughts were soon interrupted when a little white bear, who Francis had placed on the bed before he left, crawled over to the man from under the blankets. It sniffed Matthew's head and pawed at his owner, wanting attention.

"Baby?", it asked.

Matthew frowned into his pillow and lifted his head to look at Kumajirou.

"Not yet, but soon," he promised the polar bear. Kumajirou huffed and snuggled into his owner; soon the little bear was fast asleep. Canada followed soon after, trying desperately to savor the smell of Francis on the sheets.

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**Montreal, Quebec, Canada**

**11:23 AM EST**

Arthur leaned heavily on Alfred's shoulder, in the cab. The flight had been dreadful; he'd felt nauseated the whole time. And what bloody imbecile thought _Mamma Mia!_ was a good in flight movie? in First-Class no less! Even with his iPod headphones on, and Ellie Goulding blasting her little adorable heart out, he could still hear the horrible overacting. He felt dirty, as if he was covered in copious amounts of glitter..._ugh._

Alfred supported the worse for wear Brit, comforting him whenever they hit a bump or turned to sharply.

"This fool almost drives as bad as you," Arthur groaned after a rather abrupt stop at a pedestrian crossing.

"We're almost there, Babe," the American sighed, ignoring the jab on his part.

The Englishmen only nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head on his lover's broad shoulder. The scent was comforting- leather, laundry detergent, and plain regular soap. It was possibly the only smell that Arthur could stomach without gagging. He looked up through his eyelashes, almost shyly, at Alfred. Alfred caught his gaze and kissed him chastely.

The car slowed and finally stopped, pleasing the nauseous Brit immensely. He let himself out, careful of the damp pavement, and breathed in the scent of rain. Alfred paid the driver and lifted their immense suitcase from the trunk with ease.

Arthur looked up at the stylish town home in front of them, realizing he had never visited the Canadian at his home in Montreal. It was tall rather than wide, with dark brick. The shutters were painted black and the door, a light robin's egg blue. Arthur wondered whether Francis has something to do with the décor.

Alfred watched the cab drive away before grabbing his husband's hand, and leading him to the front steps of the home.

"C'mon Iggy, it's cold out here," he said, pulling Arthur into his own body, as if to ward off the cold drizzle of rain.

The American didn't even bother knocking, just opening the door and dragging the other in. He had been here countless times, and even had a key. Good thing that Matthew never locked his door anyway, because he wasn't quite sure where that little thing had disappeared to...

"Yo, Mattie!," he called out into the previously quiet house, and unintentionally slammed the door shut. The front door opened into a small foyer that led to the kitchen and living room. A small hallway lead to a hall closet and the master bedroom. A restored antique wooden staircase led to the second level of the house. Arthur was bit surprised at how neat and quaint his former ward's home was. Alfred's home was a complete disaster area, that seemed to be more of a Frat house than a home.

'That will have to change before the baby comes...', he mused to himself, before his thoughts were interrupted by his significant other's shouts.

Arthur flinched and slapped the Alfred's arm, hard, "Alfred! There is no reason to be so bloody obnoxious."

Matthew appeared in the doorway of the downstairs bedroom, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Christ, Al, why so loud?", he frowned.

Alfred beamed at his younger brother and dropped Arthur's hand to embrace his brother, careful of Matthew's state. The Canadian pretended to be annoyed but, hugged back and smiled. They parted and Arthur stepped up to hug Matthew as well.

"How do you feel?", the Brit asked, genuinely concerned.

Matthew signed and motioned to his stomach, "As good as I can being _this _pregnant."

Arthur nodded, and resisted the urge to rest his hands on his own stomach. "Uh, well, when I spoke to Francis earlier, he said it was extremely important that you remained relaxed. So…back to bed with you."

Alfred laughed, "Even after all these years, you're still such a mother hen, Babe. Ya heard him though, Bro, bed."

The Canadian rolled his eyes and walked back to his bedroom, eager to lie down and relieve his back pain, "Gladly. Make yourselves at home; Arthur, Alfred will show you the guestroom?"

"No problem, Man," America nodded.

Matthew smiled at the both of them and blushed heavily, "Um, I really appreciate you guys coming all the way up here. I just really didn't want to be alone and stuff…"

Arthur felt his heart clench at the younger man's words. As if being married to Francis wasn't enough, the stupid frog jumped up and left so close to the due date. He'd have kick the imbecile's ass when he returned from Paris, pregnant and all. It was just so horribly unfair…

Canada returned to his bedroom to sleep and as soon as he heard the door close, Arthur burst into tears.

Alfred jumped in surprise before rushing forward to grip the Englishman's shoulders. "Arthur? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is there something wrong with the b-"

Arthur threw himself into Alfred, clutching madly at him, "The one person he wants to be with him isn't even here and he's pregnant and-and _I'm going to fucking kill that Goddamn frog! And, and, and I love you so much, but if you ever did that…_"

Alfred stood motionless for a minute, extremely confused. Slowly he wrapped his outstretched arms around the sobbing man and tried his best to be comforting. After a few seconds of inaudible whimpering, Arthur finally stopped sniffling and looked up in shocked embarrassment and stuttered, "I-I don't know what that was, really. I was just really upset and I just started crying."

The younger man grinned slightly and kissed an errant tear that continue to streak down the other's cheek.

" Good thing I'm already used to your mood swings or that would've been weird…er."

Arthur unwrapped himself from the embrace and looked down at his shoes, "I'm sorry, Love."

"C'mon, Mommy, you've had an eventful day. Some sleep wouldn't hurt," Alfred laughed pulling him along up the stairs.

Arthur let him lead, feeling pleasantly warm at being called 'Mommy.'

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AN- Poor Matthew and Arthur. Good thing Al is all like 'Super Hero Dad' and taking everything in stride…for now.

Translations-

"Je pars, mon chérie. Je vais vous rappeler plus tard."-I'm leaving, Darling. I'll call you later.

"Écoutez votre papa, mon ange. Prendre soin de Maman pendant que je suis allé, oui?"- Listen to your daddy, my Angel. Take care of Mama while I 'm gone, okay?

"Je t'aime"- "I love you"

For those interested, here is the link to the bag Francis has. It's crazy expensive! .?direct1=home_entry_us

Once again, not sure about the translations, but I tried my best! Thank you for all the support and love!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, sorry for the delay- just been dealing with some personal shit lately. I'm honestly going to try to keep the updates more regular since I'm done with classes for the next two weeks. Easier said than done I suppose. I noticed that there are no translations for the first chapter and I'm so sorry! I'll sneak them in with this chapter's. By the way, thanks to all of you who have been kind enough to review/favorite/alert/read my story. It really does mean a lot to me! J

I do not own APH: Axis Powers Hetalia

**Montreal, Quebec, Canada**

**11:30 PM**

"How is she?"

Matthew sighed and rubbed his stomach out of habit while cradling the phone to his ear with some help from his shoulder, "she is perfectly fine; rather demanding, though."

Francis laughed over the extension and the Canadian's heart clenched at the familiar sound, "well she is my daughter, Mathieu."

He smiled slightly at the jest and spoke quietly, his tone serious, " She misses you."

In France, Francis clutched the phone tightly and replied back, soothingly, "and you, Chérie, do you miss me?"

"You know I do, Francis," he responded.

"I miss you too, mon ange. I miss waking up to you in my arms and I miss those cute little noises you make when we're-"

"I will hang up," the Canadian said flatly.

Francis chuckled, "oh but, I was thinking we'd try phone sex."

"The worst part is that you're completely serious…"

"Perhaps another time, when you're not so ornery…", Francis mused, angering his already volatile husband.

"And why is that you think I'm so ornery, _chérie_?", he sneered into the phone. He stopped when he heard the distant sharp echo of his tone and apologized, "I'm sorry, Francis."

Matthew hated himself when the Frenchman replied, sounding a bit sad, "no, I'm sorry. You shouldn't be alone so close to the due date."

"I'm not alone though," the younger man tried to reason. "I have Ar-"

"You know what I mean, Mathieu. I know you're still very unhappy with the situation, do not try to hide things from me."

There was a rare silence between them that made Matt uneasy. Francis was right, God damn him.

He cleared his throat and replied in the most steady tone he could muster, on the verge ears, "We are nations. Our first duty is to our people. I was being selfish and…"

"Mathieu. You and our child are my first priority now. There is no reason that my government cannot rumy citizens in a just and acceptable manner. And I do love my people, but you are far more precious," Francis promised.

The Canadian had finally given into the tears he had been fighting and managed to hiccup into the phone, "When are you coming home?"

"I'm going into the last meeting in about ten minutes and telling them I'm leaving early. Then, I'll be on the next flight back. Until then, I want you to get some sleep and continue to do everything the doctor advised, last week."

Canada nodded even though he knew the Frenchman could not see him, " I love you."

"And I love you,

He didn't know how Alfred had managed to talk him into this. It was bloody ridiculous, he only being about two months along and not yet showing any sort of change. But yet here he was, Alfred's larger body spooning his own and big hands on his naked stomach.

"What do you think it'll be?," Alfred asked breathlessly as he gently stroked Arthur's middle.

The Brit groaned, "I don't have a bloody clue, Git."

Alfred pouted, "Well aren't you supposed to have some mother's intuition junk or something, Iggy?"

"I'm not going to even dignify that with a response."

"You're no fun."

"I'm aware."

The next five minutes were comfortably silent until Alfred began to speak once again, "I don't care what it is. I already love him or her."

Arthur blushed and turned to face his husband, kissing him sweetly. Alfred returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around him , subtly maneuvering their bodies to where Arthur straddled his hips. Arthur broke the kiss once he realized what had happened and glared down heatedly at the American below him.

Alfred pouted playfully before leaning up on his elbows to peck the irritated man on the lips.

"Sorry, sorry. You're just so cute when you get all flustered!"

Arthur felt himself bristle at the comment and pushed Alfred back down onto the mattress before, rolling off the chuckling younger man and onto his side, back to Alfred. After said man calmed down from his giggling, he resumed their positions from earlier, spooning Arthur's body into his own. Too tired to put up a fuss, Arthur let him.

"Do you know the plan for tomorrow," Arthur asked, realizing he was unaware of their current situation due to sleeping off nausea and body aches all afternoon.

Alfred grunted, "Not sure, I was gonna wait to see how you two felt in the morning. I was thinking about taking it easy, renting some movies or something along those lines."

"That sounds fine…I'm going to do some work on Parliament's newest problem," Arthur told him, snuggling more into the Americans embrace.

Alfred stiffened, and said sternly, "I know you have to work and I don't expect you to stop just because you're pregnant but, please for my sake at least, don't over do it."

Arthur grinned and grabbed the hands around his stomach, grasping them in his own in an unusual act of tenderness.

"Anything for you."

Fuck guys, I know. Boring, short chapter. I'm having some issues right now, nothing I need to elabporate on.


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